


I Want You Close, I Want You

by BookewyrmeWritesFic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A Plant Wrote This, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Episode 9 Adjacent, Episode Related, F/F, Falling In Love, First Crush, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Girls Kissing, Okaeri Home zine, girls falling in love, non-explicit explicit sex, st petersburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookewyrmeWritesFic/pseuds/BookewyrmeWritesFic
Summary: After episode 9, Sara’s best friend Mila invites her to spend the time until the Final in St Petersburg. While there she discovers her true feelings for Mila, and with them a sense of homecoming.





	I Want You Close, I Want You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the Okaeri Home Zine - NSFW Edition. I had a wonderful time participating in this, my first zine! I made a lot of friends along the way, and it was lovely to have my work alongside so many other fabulous creators. 
> 
> I had been wanting to write this fic for a long time, and the zine gave me the extra push I needed to finish it up. I wanted to explore more of Sara and Mila's relationship within the confines of canon, and I set it in Mila's home in St Petersburg for the zine. 
> 
> The title is from the Tegan & Sara song "Closer"

Sitting next to her best friend, watching her brother give possibly the most emotional skate of his life, each movement full of longing and heartbreak, Sara felt her eyes overflow. She found herself sobbing like she hadn’t when taking her stand with Mickey. For some reason, now, it’s hitting her. The sense of loss is nearly overwhelming as she buries her face in her hands. She tries to block out her brother’s emotions, Mila’s concerned expression, even Georgi’s ramblings about lost love. 

In the Kiss and Cry, Sara plasters on her most enthusiastic face and reiterates her demand that they skate for themselves and become separate people. She absolutely cannot show signs of regret to Mickey, or this will all have been for naught as he clings closer again. But once she’s turned away and returned to her seat beside her best friend, Sara feels the lump rise in her throat again. They never fought, not since they were children. And never had there been anything like this before, only the small squabbles of children. It was terrifying, the distance she was creating between herself and her twin.

Yuri Plisetsky’s routine passes by, nearly unnoticed while she attempts to bring herself back under control, suppressing her recurrent urge to cry. It’s not until Katsuki’s routine that she is pulled back into the present. The melancholy nearly rises off of him in waves, and she feels a lurch of sympathy for him. Will this be what it’s like for her, skating tomorrow without Mickey? Will she be as lost as Yuuri is without Victor, or as lost as Mickey seemed without her at the boards? Has she made some sort of horrible mistake in an ill-fated attempt to gain some independence?

~~~

Much later, after the men have gotten their medals and Sara has comforted her brother for his narrow miss of the Final. After Yuuri Katsuki has hugged every person from competitor to press in the arena. After Mickey has retreated to their room. Sara lays on one of the narrow beds in Mila’s room, ranting to her friend while Mila paints her toenails for her. Mila’s hands feel nice on her tired feet (her feet are always tired), and her voice is soothing in her short interjections of encouragement. 

“Really, Mickey just doesn’t _get_ it! He keeps badgering me to come to tomorrow’s skate, and asked if he could come to morning practice with me.” Sara huffs. 

Mila murmurs encouragement and picks up Sara’s other foot, placing it in her lap and gently beginning to paint. Sara shivers at the feeling of Mila’s slim fingers clasping her foot gently. She likes having Mila’s hands on her, and _that’s_ a thought to examine more closely. Later. When Mila’s hands aren’t on her anymore and she’s better able to think.

Sara swallows and continues. “I love my brother, really. I do. It’s just. I want to be my own woman too, you know? I want to go see the world without him standing between me and it, I want to spend time with friends without him accusing them of trying to seduce me.” She blushes. “I want to be seduced damnit!”

Mila grins cheekily at her, fingers stroking gently over her foot. “Any preferences on by whom?”

“Just! Anyone!” Sara snaps and then sighs. “Really. Anyone. I’ve, well, I’ve never even been kissed.” She closes her eyes and mumbles, “And it looks like it’s a lot of fun.”

“Mmmm,” Mila’s low hum was soothing somehow. Mila understood her frustration. Mila would have suggestions. “Kissing is definitely fun, with the right person.”

Sara sighs again and Mila pats her foot. “Well, you’re all done. Want to watch a movie?”

Choking down an irrational disappointment that Mila won’t have an excuse to touch her anymore, Sara agrees and they snuggle down against to pillows to argue amicably over what to watch.

~~~

Sara wakes up tangled in Mila, legs entwined, arms around the shorter girl’s middle, a hank of red hair valiantly attempting to choke her. As consciousness creeps through her, she does her best not to jerk away and wake Mila up, but her heart begins to pound in a somewhat fight-or-flight response. She and Mila have fallen asleep in the same bed before, but this is the first time they’ve woken up like...well like lovers. What will Mila think?

A moment later she finds out. Evidently what Mila thinks is that waking up like this warrants a kiss on the nose. Sara blinks owlishly at her as Mila grins.

“Morning!” Mila’s voice is far too chipper for this hour of the morning. 

“Um.” Sara smiles shyly and puts a little space between them at last. “Sorry if...I mean. Thanks, um, I uh should um.”

Sara shuts up and blushes unaccountably. Why is she so tongue-tied? This is _Mila_ damnit! They’ve been friends ever since Mila moved up to the senior division two years ago!

The grin on Mila’s face and the way her eyes scrunch as she looks up at her makes Sara’s heart flip over and her cheeks flush. 

“Do you want to have breakfast before morning practice?” Mila asks. 

~~~

It wasn’t until they were stepping off the ice at the end of morning practice that Mila sprung it on her. 

“So, since you’re trying to get some time away from Mickey, how about coming back to St Petersburg with me for the two weeks until the Final?”

“What?” Sara stumbles a little in her shock, quickly steadying herself on the rink wall. 

“You could stay with me of course, and we can talk to Yakov about you sharing my ice time.” Mila looks almost...hopeful. Like she really wants Sara to say yes. 

Sara really _wants_ to say yes, but she still hedges. “My coach….she might not like it if I don’t see her until just before the Final.”

“Oh, we can take footage to send her! I’ll help!” Mila grabs her hand in both of her own, making Sara shiver. “Come on, it’ll be so great! And it’ll get you away from Mickey until after the Final!”

The feel of Mila’s hands in hers and the pleading look on her face was doing things to Sara’s brain. 

“Ok. As long as Yakov and Franca say it’s ok.” Sara smiles brightly. “Thank you, Mila!”

Mila smiles back shyly. “You could call me Milochka.”

The faint blush dusting Mila’s nose makes Sara’s breath catch in her throat in wonder. 

“Ok. Milochka.”

~~~

Sara stands in the middle of the concourse at Pulkovo Airport, staring up and around. She is slightly off balance after the flight. It was so much shorter than the flight to Moscow had been from her home rink. And while she had been to Russia plenty of times in the past, it was always for competitions. This was different. She was here for two weeks with no obligations on her time, except practice for the Final of course. And she planned to practice hard too. The Silver medal in her bag was nice, but she wanted to beat Mila at the Final this year. 

“Hey, let's get our luggage and get a cab! I want to get home for lunch!” Mila’s hand on her arm startles Sara and she gapes at her friend for a few moments. 

“Y-yea ok. Sounds good.”

They collect their luggage and then Mila pulls her by the hand out to the taxi stand. They grab the first available and let the driver load their bags as they slide into the back seat. Somehow, through all that, Mila never lets go of Sara’s hand. Sara is startled to realize she doesn’t want her to. 

They hold hands the whole way to Mila’s apartment, Mila chattering brightly about their options for lunch and the training schedule for the next few days. Yakov has agreed to let them train together and guide Sara’s training. Franca had demanded daily videos but Sara’s silver and the chance for her pupil to absorb some of the gold-medal training of Yakov Feltsman seemed to have mollified her initial resistance to the whole venture. 

Mila’s apartment is small but modern feeling. Only two rooms and a bathroom, looking out over the Neva. The bedroom and bathroom open on either side of the combined kitchen and living area. Sara looks around, a bit at a loss. 

Mila shrugs and looks at her feet. “It’s not much but it’s home. I hope you won’t mind sharing the bed with me?” Mila looks sheepish. “The couch isn’t great for sleeping, so. Um.”

The flutter in Sara’s stomach didn’t mean anything, it _didn’t_. Just because she was going to spend the next two weeks sharing a bed with her best friend who also happened to be the cutest girl in the Senior Circuit was no reason for flutters. Sara grins and lays a hand on Mila’s arm. 

“I think it looks lovely. Great view. And we’ve slept together plenty before so I’m sure that’ll be fine!”

~~~

Waking up tangled with Mila is beginning to feel normal, even comforting, after the Rostelecom. Sara’s alarm blares from the bedside table on the side of the bed she ended up on ( _not_ her side of the bed, the bed is not hers damnit). She groans and reaches for it to silence the noise. There will be no days off, not with only two weeks until the final. Mila’s arm is wrapped around her middle and it tightens as Mila groans and nuzzles her t-shirt clad shoulder.

“Nnng too early. Off.”

Sara smiles and twists to look down at her friend, stroking gentle fingers through the fiery hair. “Come on, sunshine. We gotta get up and get to the rink. Yakov threatened to fly my brother in if we were late today.”

“Nooooo. Whyyy?” Mila rolled over wrapping her pillow around her head.

Sara laughed and poked Mila’s exposed tummy, firmly not thinking about the soft skin there. “Come oooon, Milochka! You gotta get up, or I’ll...I’ll tickle you!”

One blue eye peeped at her, a wicked glint in it. “You sure you wanna start something like that?”

“Mila!” Sara recoils slightly before hurriedly shuffling out of the bed and out of arm’s reach. She was much more ticklish than Mila, so it paid to be prepared. “Fine, get up or I’m using all your hot water. But if you get up soon I’ll buy you coffee on the way to the rink.”

With a sigh and a luxurious full-body stretch which Sara _absolutely did not focus too hard on at all,_ Mila gets up. “Ok, ok. I’m up. But you better buy me that coffee.”

“Of course! Er, there is a cafe on the way to the rink, isn’t there?”

“Yea, nice one too. We can get bagels or something. But don’t tell Yakov. Anyway, you want first shower?”

The simple domesticity of the morning struck Sara as she was braiding her hair tightly to keep it out of her way at the rink while Mila brushed her teeth in the sink beside her. A funny feeling blooms behind her ribs, making her fingers falter in her hair for a moment. The feeling stays there throughout their jog to the cafe, and their slower walk from the cafe to the rink. It only grows as they sit side-by-side lacing their skates in the locker-room, chatting lightly in a mixture of English and Italian, with Mila interjecting Russian at her rinkmates. 

Standing at the edge of the ice, watching Mila skate graceful loops in warmup, Sara finally identifies the feeling. It’s a mixture of homesickness and longing, affection and fear laced throughout. It doesn’t make much sense, to feel homesick for a place where she currently was and where she had never lived before. But here she was.

~~~  
The strangest thing was how easy it was to fall into a routine with Mila. Like they had been training together for years, rather than a few days. They got up together, jogged to the rink together, skated side by side, ate lunch together, worked out in the afternoons, then went home to watch cheesy movies or play video games before cooking together. Sara tried not to think too hard about how happy it made her every time Mila laughed, or the warm feeling of sitting snuggled up on the couch together sobbing about how hot Jason Momoa is (though Mila confessed she would rather be kissed by Gal Gadot and wasn’t _that_ something to think about).

By the fourth day, Sara has “her” side of the bed and her clothes are hung in the closet. There was a spot for her toothbrush by the sink, she knew which nearby bakery sold the best bread, and she had discovered that while Mila was a passable cook, her baking skills were not just lacking but actively dangerous. After the Cookie Incident, Sara had banished her from baking and now they split the food-preparation chores evenly. 

Sara had never had a roommate. Never lived with anyone except her family or her brother. She was used to this sort of easy domesticity with her family, the way she fit into a place and a routine. But she had a vague idea that having this outside of family or romantic partners was...unusual at least. Every day that ticked closer to her having to leave St Petersburg again brought a tiny kernel of panic to her throat, but she shoved it down. She resolutely did not think about how much she wanted to stay. How much she wanted Mila to _want_ her to stay. She didn’t think about how much she loved waking up next Mila, and how much easier it was to be herself with the other girl than she had ever been able to be before.

~~~

The kiss happens three days before they were due to fly to Barcelona, an accident brought on by poor judgement and exhaustion probably. Yakov had been gradually ramping up their training in preparation for the final. He had been pushing Sara every bit as hard as Mila and Yuri, almost as if she were his own skater. Which meant that she was as exhausted and sore as the other two as well.

Mila drops her bag on the floor and flops onto the couch with a heavy sigh as soon as they enter the apartment. “Yakov gets worse every competition, I swear.”

Sara can feel her vertebrae pop individually as she stretches. “I didn’t realize spending two weeks with you meant Yakov would be pushing me like this!”

“Aw,” Mila pouts from where she has sprawled over the whole couch. “Isn’t it worth it to spend time with me though?”

Propping her hands on her hips, Sara mock-glares down at her friend. “I dunno, not if you hog the whole couch like that after practice it isn’t!”

“Sara!” Mila gasps, pouting dramatically. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

Sara’s cheeks flare red and her heart thumps erratically. “Uhhh.” Swiftly choosing to divert attention rather than play along, she leaps on Mila and begins tickling her ferociously. 

As it turns out, that may not have been the best choice. Mila retaliates instantly and they are soon in a full-on wrestling match, with Mila attempting to tickle her back and using her legendary upper-body strength to pin Sara to the floor. Sara bucks and shrieks, trying to leverage her greater height to reverse the pin, but all she succeeds in doing is turning so that now they were face-to-very-near-face. 

A gasp of breath chokes Sara at the sudden nearness of Mila’s mouth to her own. The laughter fades from Mila’s blue eyes and her hands tighten slightly on Sara’s wrists, her strong thighs clenching around Sara in a way that she has been trying increasingly desperately not to think about. Sara’s eyes flick involuntarily to Mila’s red, red lips, returning to Mila’s eyes just in time to see the recognition in them. A sudden movement, and all the breath leaves Sara’s lungs at once, whooshing into Mila’s mouth as it descends on her own. 

Sara had never been kissed before, unless you counted that one weird time she and Mickey had been awkward horny teenagers and decided to experiment, which Sara absolutely did _not_ count because as it turned out kissing your twin was every bit as weird as one would think. Anyway, they had sworn never to speak of it again, and so it clearly didn’t count as anything. So this was her first kiss. And it’s from Mila. Another girl. And. It is….nice. Really _really_ nice. Mila’s lips are soft from her lipbalm, and she moves them very gently against Sara’s. It turns into a series of tiny kisses, each drawing back mere millimeters only to dive back in immediately for longer and deeper kisses. When she opens her mouth slightly, Mila tastes like tea and cherry lipbalm and she smells like honey and sweat from practice. Sara’s fingers and toes curl involuntarily, every muscle in her body quivering. 

The tiniest moan escapes Sara’s throat, making Mila draw back. Before she has moved even a few inches away, Sara is babbling.

“Sorry sorry sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I mean it’s just, it was an accident I-”

Mila cuts her off with a smile and another small kiss, effectively silencing her. The redhead releases her wrists and sits up, expression wry. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who pinned you to the floor and kissed you without even asking. I should be apologizing to you!” Mila’s grin gets a bit wider and slyer. “Or are you apologizing for liking it?”

“No! I mean, yea, I mean.” Sara gulps and closes her eyes, breathing deeply and organizing her words. “I’ve never been kissed before. I don’t. I don’t know what to do.”

“Mmm” Mila hums and leans back down. “Felt like you were doing just fine to me. Want to try again? For science?”

Sara opens her eyes, mesmerized by the sparkling ones so near her own, and gulps. Her “yes, please” escapes on a breath, more a whisper than a shout, but Mila hears her. Their lips came together again, and this time Mila’s tongue slides inside her mouth fully. Sara doesn’t even try to suppress her moan this time.

~~~

What follows mostly comes to Sara in fleeting impressions and snippets of sensation. The heft of Mila’s breasts, smaller than her own but tipped in rosy pink, as she cups them in her hands. The smoothness of Mila’s skin sliding against hers, and the velvet-wrapped steel of Mila’s thigh under her cheek when it rests there for a moment. The damp shivery lightning feel of Mila’s tongue against her clit, and the taste of Mila on her tongue when she returns the favor. The sweet musk when she buries her face between Mila’s legs and the way the soft lamplight glints through the red-gold hair there. Mila’s soft cries and her own breathy gasps mingling as they chase each other over the peak of ecstasy. 

After, Sara lies spread across the bed, twitching from the clenching rolling wave of her orgasm, her brain a fog of white-noise floating on endorphins. Mila’s soft cheek is pillowed on her thigh, the bright hair tickling her skin a bit, two fingers still buried within her as she rides out the last lingering pulses and after-shocks. Sara has experimented with herself before, brought herself to orgasm out of curiousity and to blow off steam. But this was another beast altogether, an expanding purple cloud where her own explorations had yielded only pale lavender shadows. 

“So.” Mila gently slips her fingers out of Sara and lifts her head, a small pleased smile on her lips. “How was that?”

Sara opens her mouth, jaw moving without actually forcing intelligible words out. She tries again, summoning words from the depths of her scattered wits.

“Wow.”

Mila brushes her hair out of her face and smirks down at Sara, still sprawled in a limp heap. “Wow? That’s all you have to say?”

With a surge of will, Sara yanks Mila down into a searing kiss that she hopes conveys the depths of her feelings on the matter. Judging by the slightly dazed expression on her face when they finally break apart, it probably does. 

~~~  
Sara wakes the next morning slowly. Memory returns in fits and starts as she catalogues her body, naked under the covers, entwined with Mila’s, faintly sticky and somehow looser than ever before. She feels sated in a way she never has, floating across the top of having lost her virginity. 

The thought sparks a jolt of panic through her somehow. Virgin. A thing she no longer is. Mickey’s scowling face flashes through her mind and she rolls away from Mila, padding into the bathroom to step into a warm shower. She stands under the pounding water, head bowed and eyes closed. Mickey is going to blow a gasket when he realizes. Not because she slept with a woman, but rather because she slept with anyone at all. Does she really need to tell him? Maybe he’ll read it on her face, in the line of her body. He’s always been disconcertingly good at knowing her, twin-senses on full alert for her at every moment. Even moments when she didn’t want him to be. Maybe this time, he won’t notice. After all, with the Final, which he didn’t make, she may not even see him for another week. Surely that’s time to get herself in order.

Her thoughts turn to Mila again. What does she want? Really, Sara has been in love with her best friend for a while. She can admit it to herself, now, remembering how having Mila’s hands on her had felt. The way warmth had bloomed on her skin and in her stomach and how even now, thinking of Mila’s face lit a warmth beneath her breast that couldn’t be extinguished. 

The door of the shower rattles behind her and she spins just in time to see Mila step inside, yawning sleepily.

“Hope you don’t mind if I join you?” Mila’s cheerful grin chases a blush across Sara’s cheeks.

“Oh! Uh. No, that’s ok. I was just, gonna finish up in a minute, I’ll get out of your way!”

Mila frowns and slides her arms around her waist, warm and strong. Sara stiffens only slightly, but Mila notices immediately and steps back again. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“No!” Sara practically shouts, and grabs for Mila’s hands, clutching as if at a lifeline. “I’m just. I don’t. I don’t know what comes next. What you want from me. How to tell Mickey, or if I even should bother, and where I can hide from his resulting tantrum.”

Mila grins a little, “Yea, you better be glad you’re gorgeous, or I dunno if I could put up with having to accept more Mickey in my life.”

“Haaah. Yea. He’s a lot, I know. But he’s my brother, and I still love him even when he’s an overprotective idiot. And I know you can hold your own against him, but do you even want to?”

Mila’s brow furrows and she chews on her lip as if trying to work something out. “I mean. You’re my best friend, and I think we’ve got pretty great chemistry, and I definitely want to kiss you again, so if that means having to ignore Mickey, well...he can’t be any more annoying than Victor or Yura!”

“So, does…” Sara’s heart is thumping erratically for some reason. “Does that mean you do want to? Want...me?”

“Of course I want you!” For the first time, possibly ever, Mila looks a little uncertain. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” The answer is so simple and stark, Sara couldn’t possibly answer any other way. She summons her courage and initiative, and leans in to press a soft lingering kiss to Mila’s lips, tasting her again. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Mila laughs and kisses her back, wrapping her limbs around Sara and pressing close, the wet slide of their skin making Sara’s breath catch in her throat. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.” 

~~~

Sara glances around the apartment, ostensibly checking to make sure she isn’t forgetting anything. A sudden wave of melancholy washes over her as she looks from the balcony overlooking the river where they had laughed about Georgi’s girl troubles together, to the spot on the carpet in front of the couch where Mila had kissed her 3 days ago. Tears well up in her eyes and with a start she realizes she is already feeling homesick for Mila’s apartment. The past two weeks had been some of the happiest she could remember in a long time.

Mila touches her arm gently. “Hey. We better get going or we’ll miss the plane.”

With a small nod and a sniff, Sara picks up her bag. “Yea, ok. Sure. Lead on.”

Mila catches her, planting a lingering kiss on her lips that makes her flush even as she returns it. “Hey. You know you can always come back, right?”

“Yea, I know. But it’ll be nationals next and then Euros and Worlds and...it’ll probably be summer before I get a chance and-”

“Hey. None of that. We’ll talk, and I’ll make Yakov let me come see you. And we’ll see each other regularly for competitions.”

“But.” Sara swallows and looks down into vibrant green eyes. “It won’t be the same. It’s been...nice. Really nice just being here with you and...and sharing your home.”

Mila squeezes her hand, kissing her again gently. “You’re always welcome in my home.” Mila grins mischievously up at her. “But first, let’s go get you another silver medal.”

“Thank--wait!” Sara scowls mock-ferociously. “You mean gold!”

Mila’s laughter is golden and bright. “Let’s go find out I guess!”

“I can’t wait!”

Mila’s eyes say she knows Sara means more than just the next competition. She whispers as the door falls shut behind them, “I can’t wait either. We’re going to have such a grand time together.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this leave me some love either here or on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LiaWolff) or [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/thebookewyrme) to let me know! Thanks for reading!


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